There are a few things that freak me out consistently: creepy children, creepy old people, and creepy dolls. To be honest, sometimes non-creepy children, old people, and dolls freak me out. I was recently convinced to go see the latest creepy doll flick with some friends who love horror movies. I reluctantly agreed, seeing as Rupert Evans from The Man in the High Castle was one of the main characters in The Boy. If anything, I could distract myself from the inevitable terror by staring at his jaw line.
Ignore creepy doll. Stare at British man. Yes. Good plan.
Sweet niblets. I was not even remotely prepared.
The Boy had a number of jump scares, and there was one in particular that no one in the theater was expecting. The end result of said jump scare meant my friend and I were holding each other while screaming, and yes, some tears came out. This is coming from someone who is hard-pressed to cry during tearjerkers in movie theaters; I was so startled that I found myself nervously laughing and crying. I JUST REALLY HATE CREEPY DOLLS, OKAY?
An accurate representation of me during the majority of the movie.
Other than those horrible jump scares, the rest of the horror up until the climax was more psychological than anything else. When we weren’t screaming in terror, I felt constantly unnerved, shaking my head and often saying, “Haha. Nope. NOPE. I need to leave. Nope.” Greta, an American who recently moved to England, is hired to babysit an elderly English couple’s son, Brahms. Except Brahms isn’t your average 9-year-old British boy: he’s a child-sized doll. And Greta has to follow a very particular list of rules while taking care of Brahms otherwise Brahms will not be happy.
*STARING INTENSIFIES*
I don’t really know all that much about horror movies, or what constitutes a good one, but I can say that the ending truly was unpredictable. The audience was lulled into a false sense of anticipating the final reveal of Brahms and his creepy, soulless stare. Literally EVERYONE was caught off guard. I was afraid that the other movie-goers would be annoyed by my screaming but I soon realized that the entire theater was yelling in surprised horror.
So to the screenwriters, I say well done for making an ultimately unpredictable movie in a genre that sometimes can feel too predictable. Maybe the final explanation was a little farfetched and maybe it wasn’t explained enough to a lot of the audience’s liking, but if anything the small bit of clarity we received late in the film was more than enough for me. And to the director, I say well-done for a movie rife with unsettling and creepy camera work. I will continue to be unnerved whilst in the same room as a doll.
*quietly sobs in terror*
Danielle Reviews Moving Pictures 